Friends of Summer
by Apple Syder
Summary: Waking up next to Dipper Pines? Oh, boy. Shiz just got real. One shot. Dipper/Pacifica.


A/N: So, just some Dipcifica trash I spewed out one day. All Alex Hirsch's babies.

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Friends of Summer

The summer sun streaming through the window and warming up the bed was what woke her. That was unusual. The curtains in her room were thick and heavy, and her mother insisted they be drawn at night in order to protect from the "straying eyes of the commoners". She supposed that was fine, anyway, since she could hardly see the stars from their home on the edge of town. She might have been tempted to fight her mother about it if they still lived in her old childhood home—at this time of year, the Little Dipper would have been directly out her window.

Her eyes were swollen with sleep. She was still exhausted, but there was no blocking out the yellow sun that glowed behind her eyelids. She rubbed her eyes, her mind slowly becoming aware of a few things—the soreness in her ears from being pressed against her earrings all night, and the pinch of her bra. Looking down she saw her tank top and cut off shorts. What, had she slept in them? She hadn't bothered to climb into her silky pajamas? The only times she slept in her clothes were when Mabel dragged her out camping on some adventure or another, but even then she detested it.

She was in a bed, though, not on the ground. Opening her eyes she saw brown walls that weren't hers, covered in a few old paintings of the Oregon Mountains. The floor was wood with a dingy old rug, and the sheets around her were a dusty green, not the pearly blue with small pink flowers that were on her bed.

In a heart stopping second of too many emotions to name, Pacifica remembered where she was. She slowly rolled over.

Dipper Pines lay on the other side of the bed.

He was still sleeping, and after a few minutes Pacifica realized she was holding her breath. Well, she didn't want him to wake up and find her blue. She carefully let out her air, turning fully to look at him.

It wasn't the first time she'd slept in the same space as him. There had been plenty of times she'd been in a tent with him and Mabel and whoever else had come along on their search for some supernatural anomaly. There'd been times she'd fallen asleep on the couch downstairs with Mabel and him after a black and white horror movie marathon, after they'd laughed themselves to sleep. And once, at the beginning of last summer, she and Dipper had been stuck in the multi-bear's cave overnight after a nice jog for their lives from an unhappy griffin.

This, however, was different. Mabel wasn't anywhere in sight, their lives weren't in danger, and the door sat closed, undisturbed from when they had shut it last night.

He was on his side, facing her. She had somehow ended up with the pillow, so his head rested on the bed. She pushed the pillow down so she could better see his face.

He always looked so peaceful when he was asleep, younger even. Well, almost. His shoulders had become broad and most of his baby fat had disappeared over the last year. Small nicks in his skin marked scars on his bare chest and arms. They were familiar to her—scars from claws and sharp rocks and anything else he had come up against. Faded markings circled his left wrist up to his elbow in patterns. They might have looked like a strange tattoo, except that Pacifica knew they were a symbol of the Woodwatchers. A leather string around his neck had a small blue stone hanging that warned him when dark magic was nearby. Mabel had a matching one, gifts from a water elf a couple years ago. Pacifica thought there was almost no need to record anything in Gravity Falls; a person could practically read the stories right from Dipper's body.

On his shoulders and neck was a pretty definite tan line from all his time spent in the woods, either paling around with Mabel or trekking after some mystical creature with his great uncle Ford. She liked his tan line. The last few summers she and Mabel had worked as lifeguards at the pool. Pacifica's parents were constantly horrified that she had taken a "poor man's" job, but she had insisted. She was sick of asking them for money. Not because they wouldn't give it to her, but because she wanted to make her own. About time a Northwest became independent.

So she had gone with Mabel to apply, and tried not to gag too much when she had to clean puke or left behind swim shorts from the pool. The pool was always busy with teenagers—everyone came to see Mabel. Her quirkiness was an acquired taste, but apparently one that came naturally to Gravity Falls. Pacifica usually didn't mind, and she tried not to be jealous when Mabel was surrounded by the same teens that turned their noses up at Pacifica at school because she was a Northwest. Pacifica would just pretend that she was fine and that she loved being hit on by Gary Strange, who never took no for an answer, for the _umpteenth_ time.

Or she'd sit with Candy and Gretta and listen to another weird theory that Dipper had. And despite her teasing him that he was too skinny and that it looked like he was wearing a white shirt even when he wasn't, she secretly liked it. His tan was real. Unlike the orange glow her parents sported, and sometimes got her to sport. Apparently she wasn't allowed to say no to family-coupons. Not that her parents would ever admit they had used a coupon. They still liked pretending they were rich as kings.

He wasn't really that skinny, either. Thin, sure, lanky even. But there were long muscles beneath the skin that she caught herself looking at sometimes, although she always vehemently denied it when Mabel gave her a sly look.

Mabel wasn't here, though. No one was. Even Dipper was asleep. She could look at him all she wanted and not have to pretend she wasn't, not have to pretend that Pacifica Northwest would never fall for a nerd.

Because Pacifica Northwest had definitely gone out and found the nerdiest, cutest dork she could and straightaway fallen for him.

It was an accident. She hadn't meant to. It was his fault, really, the stupid idiot. How was she supposed to combat his awkward charm and complete obliviousness as to how cute he was? Her parents had equipped her with the skills to deal with prissy rich boys, not adorable nerds. She had been completely defenseless. And now she was forced to live with all the false hope and complete terror that came with such a crush. Sometimes she thought it would kill her to not be with him, but the horror of him knowing how much she liked him, and the too-nice rejection that would follow, would kill her even more.

Her mother had noticed. The woman hardly noticed anything Pacifica did unless it had to do with crooked eyeliner or non-designer shoes. Turned out she still knew a thing or two about boys, and had pulled out the mom-card on Pacifica more than once when she had been spending long hours with the Pines twins. Her mother had said something in front of her father once, making him sputter angrily and ask if Dipper was to receive any kind of inheritance, to which Pacifica blushed and stomped to her room, loudly proclaiming it didn't matter because she would _never_ be into Dipper Pines.

Mabel had noticed, too, although Pacifica still denied it. She could hear Mabel giggling with Gretta and Candy every time she talked to Dipper. She had perfected the Northwest glare on them, although they weren't in the least bit afraid of it anymore.

She acted so hot-and-cold with Dipper, friendly one second, then flippant the next, it was a miracle he still hung out with her. She couldn't help it, she had no idea how to deal with him. But he knew better than to take her too seriously.

"You know," He'd said to her with a smile at the end of last summer, the day he was going back to California, "You're one of my favorite mysteries to solve."

She'd guffawed at how cheesy that was, mostly to distract from her flushed face, but he'd just laughed at her cynicism and hopped in his and Mabel's beat up car that would barely get them back home.

"See you next summer!" He'd said out the window, and she'd pretended it was only to her and not everyone else.

Pacifica lifted her hand to Dipper's hair as he slept, the sunlight pouring over her shoulder onto his skin. His hair was so crazy thick, and seemed impossible to tame properly. It didn't help that he liked to run his hands through it when he was thinking, which was a lot. Carefully combing her fingers through the strands, she pushed a few stray pieces out of his eyes, then followed the line of his hair over his ear to the back of his neck. It was longer than it had been at the beginning of the summer. He'd cut it shorter for graduation, which Pacifica had seen pictures of on Mabel's instagram. The style had looked good on him, although there was something about this grown out, slightly shaggy look that seemed more him.

Dipper inhaled deeply, his shoulders expanding with the action, and on the exhale his brown eyes slid open.

Her blue eyes met his and she kept her face calm, not betraying the huge smile or race of the heart she had hidden inside.

"Hi," Was all she could think to say, pulling her hand back.

His eyes closed and she thought he was asleep again until he mumbled, "Eugh. Pacifica Northwest in my bed."

She blinked, her mind reeling to process that. Was he serious? If so she would roll off the bed and disappear from his house forever. Then, underneath the blanket, she felt his arm wrap about her waist. His fingers were just beneath the hem of her tank top, pressed against the skin of her back, and he pulled her closer so she was practically falling off the pillow, her nose nearly touching his. He inhaled and exhaled deeply again, his breath hot on her face.

She was about to say something snarky back, as was their usual behavior with each other, but then bit her tongue. She pressed her lips together, terrified of breathing on him in case she had morning breath. Her hair was no doubt a disaster, too, and her mascara was probably smudged beneath her eyes. Dang it, of course those were her first thoughts—she was still her mother's daughter, it turned out. She couldn't just curl up against him and relax like she wanted, she had to be worried about stupid things like that. He'd scold her if he knew. He and Mabel were always trying to convince her she didn't have to look perfect. It was a hard thing to accept after being raised the way she had.

She wondered if she had some gum or a mint in her pocket. Anything. Maybe she could sneak away and use the bathroom and freshen up. Would that be weird? She had no clue what the proper behavior was in a situation like this.

She hadn't brought an overnight bag like she did when she slept over with Mabel. She hadn't been planning on spending the night at all. It was just supposed to be a movie night, nothing special. Gretta had been off with her new boyfriend, and Candy was still counseling at band camp, so Pacifica and Mabel had made plans by themselves. When Pacifica had showed up at the Mystery Shack, Dipper had answered the door. He had smiled when he saw her and she had casually asked if Mabel was home. He'd told her that Mabel had just been dragged off on a hike by Gideon Gleeful on the pretense of a fairy hunt. He'd been instructed to tell Pacifica that Mabel was sorry and would have to postpone. Then he'd invited her in anyway.

Pacifica rarely spent time at the Mystery Shack if Mabel wasn't there. Soos and his wife, Melody, were nice, and Stan and Ford were polite. Well, Ford was polite. Stan was friendly, in his usual crusty old way. She just couldn't shake the worry that they might find her presence unwelcome, even though Mabel assured her it wasn't. There were others in town that openly disliked the Northwests ever since their family had lost their great wealth almost six years ago. They were still richer than most people, but not enough to buy love and friendship anymore. That was fine with Pacifica; she didn't want false friends anymore. She much preferred her weird, kind friends who had taught her how to be a real person, not some princess locked away in her parents' tower.

So when Dipper invited her in she had entered the house, secretly happy to have some time with him without Mabel around. It didn't happen often. So they sat on the couch and watched the movie she and Mabel had planned—an 80s werewolf movie, in honor of the full moon that night. She'd eaten her popcorn, laughed at the terrible outfits, and laughed at Dipper's heated comments about the inaccuracy of their portrayal of werewolves. She'd inwardly cheered when he slipped his arm around her, and had avoided Stan's sidelong glance when he walked through the room.

After the movie they had talked. About the movie and the new projects he was helping Ford with and her parents and his hopes for college. Things had gotten a little weird after midnight, when they'd tried to see who could guess the other's impersonations of Gravity Falls' residents. Melody had come out then and asked them if they could quiet down a little, since the baby, Stanley, was sleeping. They'd abashedly apologized and shushed each other before Dipper took her hand and said, "C'mon."

So they'd gone up to Dipper's room.

It was still funny to think that he didn't share the attic with Mabel anymore. They hadn't for the past two summers, since their parents said they were too old to share a room anymore. Mabel had since converted the attic into what she called "The Bachelorette Lounge (Complete with Mini Fridge)", which was a fantastic hang out spot and which successfully took up the whole room and didn't remind Mabel of her twin's missing bed. Dipper had gotten a room on the second floor, which had been cleaned out of all the Mystery Shack's junk and turned into a proper bedroom. Soos and Melody had been given the large room downstairs, which they lived in year round now, and the lab downstairs had been changed up a bit by Soos so Ford and Stan could have their own living space.

During the winters, the house was a quiet place, and Pacifica would drive by with Gretta and Candy and look at the dark upstairs windows. The house seemed to sleep in the winter, and everything around it was only still life. Pacifica enjoyed her time during school with Gretta and Candy, but sometimes she still felt like she was asleep inside, too.

But when the heat came to town, so did Dipper and Mabel, bringing a whole new life, and Stan and Ford would come home from their travels, with new artifacts and stories about strange creatures. With the great uncles and newly weds and the teenagers and all their friends and the new baby and all the customers, the Mystery Shack became a busy place. Stan complained about it constantly, but Mabel always whispered to Pacifica that he loved it. Pacifica complained about it, too, but over the years she had found herself there during summer more often than in her own quiet, lonely house.

Upon reaching his room, Pacifica had stared around at the walls and the bookshelves. She'd never been in his room, and had found a great amount of satisfaction while poking around at his gadgets and knickknacks. He had sat on the floor, leaning against the foot of the bed, while she sat in front of him, flipping through his latest notebook, filled with sketches and comments about places he'd been and strange creatures he'd met. She recognized some of them, since she had been around to see them, but not all of them. She had listened quietly and watched his eyes light up as he related the stories to her.

Somehow the conversation had become more personal after that. She couldn't remember what had caused it, but suddenly they were talking about their insecurities and fears, each rebutting the other's poor self-image, and comparing their concepts of love against Mabel's, who was the queen of fairytale romances. Pacifica had been both proud and horrified with herself when she admitted that she was glad he was back in Gravity Falls. Then she'd been further astonished to hear him laugh and tell her how he had almost flunked one of his classes because he had been too distracted making plans for his summer trip to Gravity Falls so he could see her again.

Then she had crawled across the floor and kissed him. He'd caught her face in his hands like he'd been expecting it, like he'd been waiting for it. From his lap she had sat kissing him, and he had held her tightly so she couldn't stop kissing him.

It hadn't been their first kiss. Far from it. She wasn't sure what had started it, the hot weather or the late nights, but at the end of the previous summer they had found themselves stealing opportunities behind trees, behind the Shack, even behind the snack stand at the pool. Each time she had walked away with an aloof flip of her hair, leaving him, as well as herself, wondering what was really going on between them. They'd never talked about it, although she thought Dipper had tried to bring it up more than once. She hadn't wanted to talk about it. She'd been afraid to. They had a nice thing going, a friends with benefits and no strings attached thing. But talking about it would have meant her probably saying stupid things and him telling her she was fun to kiss but that they would only ever be friends. So she had avoided "talking", and then the weather had cooled off and he had gone back home, leaving her with only the comment about her being a mystery and the memory of his kisses to keep her warm through the sleepy winter.

When he'd come back almost five weeks ago, Pacifica had been there with the rest of the welcome crew. The urge to run up and hug him as soon as he jumped out of the car had almost been stronger than she could resist, but she had anchored herself behind Gretta to keep herself back. The party had lasted a few hours, with loud conversation and lots of cooing at little Stanley, who was learning to walk. Night had fallen when Pacifica had left the Shack, and Dipper had scared her senseless as he came around the porch with the last bag from the car. She had snapped at him and he had rolled his eyes at her and then they had awkwardly looked at each other for a moment. Then she had hooked her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and tiptoed to whisper in his ear, her nose brushing his cheek, "Welcome back." She had barely finished the sentence when he had turned and caught her mouth with his.

Then Candy and Gretta had loudly thrown the door open, and Pacifica had turned and walked with them down the dirt driveway without another look back.

That had been the last time they were alone together, since every day was planned out by Mabel for their "Ultimate Summer Bash", at the end of which everyone would head off to college. Before that, it had been nine months, their entire senior year, since they'd seen each other. It was a long time, and Pacifica had felt it more acutely than she would ever dare admit.

Over the last few weeks she had run around with him and Mabel and anyone else who wanted to join, getting drunk on slurpees, recovering McGucket's statue of his raccoon wife from junior high vandalizers, saving the town from an invasion of hyper-intelligent squirrels. She tried to keep her staring at him to a minimum, although it didn't help that she sometimes felt him looking at her, too.

One night Gretta and Candy had divulged to Mabel the juicy story of Prom night, when Pacifica had been kissed by stupid Gary Strange. She hadn't even wanted to go, but Gretta had a date with the quarterback and needed someone to double with. Mabel had cackled at the story and slapped Pacifica, who shrugged it off like she kissed hot guys all the time and it was no big deal. Then she'd caught Dipper's eye from a few feet away, staring straight at her with an expression she couldn't read. She hadn't had any chance to tell him that it was an accident, that she hadn't heard from Dipper since Mabel had called at Christmas, and that compared to him kissing Gary Strange was like kissing a wet fish.

So kissing Dipper last night in his room had been complete euphoria. Never mind that Mabel might have come back from her hike with Gideon any second, or that the Pines brothers and Soos' family were all in the house. All she'd been aware of was the window that was open so she could see the stars if she wanted, the warm breeze ruffling her hair, and Dipper.

She couldn't remember at all how they'd gotten to the bed, although she remembered it had been much more comfortable than kissing him on the floor. He had been the one to pull away after a while. For a second she had been angry about it, thinking that it had been almost a year since they'd had any decent alone time for kissing, and who knew when their next chance would be. But then he'd pressed his lips to her forehead and her nose and ran his fingers through her hair and whispered that he would take her home. She had smiled under his touch, shifted to use his arm as a pillow, and said, "All right."

She must have fallen asleep right after that. She didn't know if it had been his decision to let her stay or if he had fallen asleep as well, but either way here they were now, and his brown eyes were open again and looking at her, and she was still doing her best not to breath on him too much.

"Morning," He said.

"Morning," She replied, tight lipped.

He smiled slightly, then looked at her bare shoulders and the green sheets, apparently processing the situation as she had been doing the last few minutes. He cleared the sleep from his throat, or maybe the shyness, and asked, "Exactly how much is your father going to kill me?"

"My father? He won't kill you. It's not like anything happened, anyway. And for all he knows, I just spent the night with Mabel again."

"Well, good. He terrifies me."

"You, who has fought demons and dead warlords and dwarf kings? My dad scares you?"

"To be fair, I'm still not entirely convinced that he's _not_ a vampire."

Her tight lips did her no good after that—she had to laugh. "He won't kill you. He won't think you're worth it. He might kill me, though."

"Well, that's no good. You'll have to hide out with the multi-bear until we can change your identity."

"Ugh, not that again."

He chuckled. "I thought you liked the multi-bear."

"He's alright, but I don't want to _live_ with the multi-bear." She wrinkled her nose. "I don't do that raw fish thing. Plus, his taste in music is terrible."

"What?" Dipper gasped, "His taste in music is impeccable!"

"For little girls from the 70s, sure."

"I happen to love his music."

"That's what I said, little girls from the 70s."

He snorted, then reached a hand up to push a strand of yellow hair from her face. He took far longer than was necessary to tuck the hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing slowly across her skin, which made her sleepy and woke her up, all at once. Suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed in worry and he lifted his head up, looking closely at the side of her head.

"Uh-oh," He said.

"What? What is it?" Was her hair in knots? Had her makeup smeared all the way back to her ear? What?

He shook his head solemnly. "Your roots are starting to show. You'll have to dye them again soon."

She immediately smacked him on the chest, her hand making a loud clap against his skin, and said heatedly, "For the last time, I don't dye my hair!"

But he had already fallen back to the bed, laughing. "I know, I know, I'm sorry. I like your hair, really. It's getting long again."

It was past her shoulders now. All her life her mother had kept Pacifica's hair long, and in a moment of particularly angry rebellion when she was fifteen, she had taken a pair of scissors and cut it all off. It had barely reached her chin in a choppy blond bob. Her mother had nearly fainted. Since then, Pacifica had taken charge of her own hair, and the last couple years she had let it steadily grow out.

She huffed at him, trying to stay annoyed, but his smile was persistent and she had to look away from his eyes.

His body abruptly stiffened next to her, but before she could ask what was wrong she heard it, too—creaking on the stairs.

Someone was coming.

They shared a wide-eyed look before she started pushing him off the bed, which he was already rolling off of. His feet hit the floor and he hurried across the room, tripping on the rug and bumping a strange metal contraption off the shelf and fumbling to catch it. The heavy footsteps reached the door, and Dipper swung it open just as they were knocking.

Pacifica held her breath, pulling the sheets up to cover everything below her eyes. The door to Dipper's room swung inward, and luckily his bed was on the other side of it. As it was, she could only see Dipper, standing there in only his cargo shorts, and not their guest. But, at least that meant they couldn't see her, either.

"Grunkle Stan!" Dipper greeted loudly, "Good morning!"

There was a pause before Stan said gruffly, "What the heck are you so cheerful for?"

"Uh, no reason. What, uh, what brings you here?"

"This is my house, kid."

Dipper laughed too loudly, which he always did when he was nervous. "Right, right, yeah. I got you! I mean, what are you doing _here_ in _this_ part of the house?"

"Well, currently I'm _here_ , in _this_ part of the house, to wake _this_ lazy one up, so he can help the one _downstairs_ fix the _toaster_."

"What happened to the toaster?"

"Apparently, little Stanley thought it was a good idea to put bacon in it instead of bread. It heats bread, why not meat? Brilliant idea, really, but I could have told him it wouldn't work. Made my pops furious. Anyway, Soos says he has it mostly, just needs an extra hand and doesn't want Melody to get electrocuted."

"Where's Mabel or Grunkle Ford?"

"Ford went off this morning to pick up some parts er somethin', and Mabel's still out with the brat."

"Still? Well, why don't you help Soos?"

"I'm retired. Geeze, kid, what do you think we feed you for? Times like this. Quit your whining and get down there, it'll take you two seconds if you use that big brain of yours."

Dipper shot a look at Pacifica, then sighed in exasperation. "Ok, fine, I'm coming." He shooed Stan ahead of him then shut the door behind them.

Pacifica sighed in relief, flopping face first into the pillow.

Well, now what should she do? Try to sneak out? She'd been on the roof enough times, she thought she might be able to reach the drainpipe and shimmy down. Although if she fell she'd land right outside the kitchen window. That would be subtle.

She sat up and looked around the room, combing her fingers through her hair as she did so. In the daylight, she saw a few more things she hadn't noticed in the lamplight last night—pictures taped to the walls of fishing trips, carnival days, family barbeques, old friends who had grown up and moved away.

Pacifica looked down at the bed, pulling her knees up to wrap her arms around them. Did she have to sneak away? She didn't really want to. The blankets were warm. Her parents weren't around to scold her for sleeping in late. Dipper would come back soon.

On second thought, Dipper would probably want to "talk" or something. He was such a girl. Maybe she should sneak away.

She glanced around and saw her shoes and sweatshirt on the floor, next to Dipper's shirt.

The shirt thing had been her fault last night. She blushed just remembering it. She had played with the hem of his t-shirt until, on a whim, she had stopped kissing him long enough to yank it off. He hadn't even hesitated. She herself had been wearing a light summer sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up, which she discarded a few minutes later since the Mystery Shack didn't have great AC and Dipper's skin had been hot. Again, he hadn't complained, although he also hadn't made any moves to get her tank top off next. She loved that about him. He respected her as a person, unlike other guys who just saw a blond girl with lots of daddy's money. Unlike stupid Gary Strange, who had tried to feel her up, and she'd had to stomp on his foot with her high heel. Dipper only ever held her tightly and kissed her gently.

She slid off the bed and picked the sweatshirt and shirt up. With a glance at the door she held his shirt to her nose. It smelled like dirt and evergreen and deodorant. She pressed the fabric against her lips and smiled, glancing around the room again. She giggled, and didn't bother to be horrified with herself for it.

Then, in a moment of sheer madness, she gave in to temptation. She put the shirt on.

She'd seen this in a movie, once. Probably one of those cheesy ones her friends were always watching. The girl got to wear her boyfriend's shirt. Not that Dipper was her boyfriend, but their relationship was certainly…different. Did that mean this was ok? She fingered the hem of the shirt absently. It was loose on her and far too long, but the fabric was soft from being washed over and over again.

Her cheeks were getting warm. She was such an idiot. She should definitely take this off. Just as she grabbed the shirt in a fist, intending to rip it off, the door burst open, causing her to whip around, caught red-handed.

Dipper came in, quickly swinging the door shut behind him. Dang it, why hadn't she noticed his footsteps pounding up the stairs? Why hadn't he taken longer fixing the toaster? Couldn't he not be a genius for once?

He took a few steps toward her before he noticed what she was wearing. He blinked a few times and all she could do was stare back. If her face had been warm before, it was on fire now. She wanted to crawl under the bed or tear the shirt off and call it "so last year", but she didn't do either. After a second he turned away, scratching his nose, and she could have sworn he was hiding a smile. She couldn't be totally sure, since she turned away herself, sitting down on the bed and hiding behind a curtain of hair.

He walked to the solar powered clock by the window. "Ten fifteen already? And it's already so hot outside," He said, as though making casual conversation to an acquaintance who was not in his bedroom, on his bed, wearing his shirt.

"Good," She said, "I like the heat."

"I like it for a while," He said, peeking out the window to the grass below. "Then it gets too hot and I'm ready for the summer to be over."

"I'm never ready for the summer to be over," She said, looking up at his back. "The rest of the year is never as good."

"Mabel still isn't back yet," He said with a tsk, scanning the tree line for signs of his sister. "Hope everything's ok."

Pacifica wondered briefly how her friend was, but figured she was probably all right. When things went wrong in the woods around Gravity Falls, the gnomes and multi-bear and various other friendly creatures were usually pretty good about getting news of it to the Pines family as quickly as possible. No one else was as equipped to handle supernatural problems as well as they were.

Well, Gideon was pretty competent, actually. He was also one of the best looking kids in Gravity Falls, now. He'd outgrown Dipper's long legs freshman year, and his adorable freckles and southern drawl still made girls giggle. No one dared mess with him or his gang, but other than that he wasn't _so_ bad. Plus, he would, quite literally, die or kill for Mabel. Not that she needed the help.

"I'm sure she's fine," Pacifica said, "Anything in those woods is probably more scared of her than she is of it."

"That's true." He turned away from the window to look at her fully again. He crossed his arms, and she could tell by the look on his face something was on his mind. "Pacifica," He started seriously, "We need to talk."

And there it was. The end. Her summer, the summer of her life that included Dipper, was over. Dang it. She should have snuck away.

"Talk?" She flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned back on her hands, crossing her ankles. "We don't have anything to talk about. In fact," She fished a couple dollars from her pocket she had left over from lunch with Gretta yesterday and held them up. "Can I pay you to pretend last night didn't happen?"

That questions was sort of an ongoing joke between the two of them that they said whenever something strange happened that they didn't want to deal with. The first time he'd saved her life and she had hugged him for it—the first time she had hugged anyone, really. She'd been serious when she asked him then, at the age of twelve.

When they were fourteen and had gotten lost on the mountain. They'd fought the whole way, and being chased by the stupid griffin hadn't made matters better. After spending the night in the multi-bear's cave, she'd woken up to find him curled up right next to her for warmth. She'd shaken him awake and he'd flusterdly said it to her then, to which she had coldly promised to never remember it.

She'd said it after the first time she had kissed him when they were sixteen. It was when he'd looked so sad that Wendy had come home from freshman year of college with an awesome, bearded and flannel clad boyfriend whom she planned to backpack Europe with. He had said he was "so over Wendy" for ages, and he even liked Harry, her boyfriend, but when the two had left after the going away party, Dipper had sat by himself on the picnic bench outside. Pacifica had sat by him and they talked for a few minutes, then, _oops_. She'd kissed him. Inwardly, she had freaked out. Outwardly, she'd told him she had been forced to do it in order to cheer him up, and she'd pay him to keep quiet about it. She'd never forget his shocked face as she left him sitting in the glow from the Mystery Shack.

He'd had his revenge the next summer after their second kiss, throwing her words back at her. She'd replied, "I know for a fact you are too poor to pay me to keep quiet about anything." So he'd shrugged, said, "You're right, I guess we'll have to tell people," and walked away, pretending to call Mabel over to spill the beans. Pacifica had pushed him in the pool to stop him.

Half a dozen other times they had said it, just to tease or make the other laugh. Saying it to him this particular morning she expected a roll of the eyes, a chuckle perhaps. At the very least a distraction or suspension from whatever serious thing he thought they had to talk about. The clench of his jaw and drop of his eyebrows into a frown was the last thing she had anticipated.

He crossed the room in three strides. In one swift move he snatched the money from her hand, tossed it over his shoulder, grabbed her around the waist, and pushed her back down on the mattress. Too surprised to react, she stared up at his angry face as he leaned over her, his blue pendant hanging over her heart.

"You could _never_ pay me enough to pretend last night didn't happen," He snapped. "What, you think every time something happens between us it's just meaningless? It's not, at least for me. You'd know that if you stopped panicking every time I try to talk to you about it. Get over yourself, Pacifica. We're not doing that. We're not living that way. I'm surrounded by secrets all the time, I don't need them when it comes to you. I like you, and snub your nose at me all you want, I know you like me, too."

Her lips moved as though she were going to say something, but nothing came out. She just looked at him, her mind frozen. He searched her eyes for some sort of response but when she still couldn't give him anything he sighed and pulled back, sitting on the bed beside her.

She stared up at his ceiling, watching the sunlight sparkle on the 70s stucco above her.

Dipper didn't move away or say anything else. He just let her think.

After a few minutes she said matter-of-factly, "You like me."

"Yep."

"That's stupid of you."

"You're stupid."

"I'm not very nice."

In her peripheral she saw him look over his shoulder. She didn't look at him, and he didn't say anything.

"I suck at understanding people. I worry way too much about my hair. I judge people before I ever even talk to them." She blinked a little quicker, her eyes stinging. "I make fun of you. The only person who I'm ever truly honest with is your sister, and sometimes I wonder why she lets me hang around. I hate my mother, but I'm terrified I'm turning into her. I'm just another fake blond, wannabe Jersey girl, who's only good for spending daddy's money."

"So it _is_ fake."

She lifted her head to glare at him. "Shut up, I'm being serious. Don't tell me that you _like_ me, don't get my hopes up like that."

He raised his eyebrows. "But I do like you."

"That's _stupid_ ," She said, frustrated. "Even if you really do, it's not going to last! I'm horrible, and I nag you and tease you, and you'll get tired of my vanity, and you'll go away. I'll let you because you should, you deserve the best Dipper, and that isn't me. And I'm a coward, so this, whatever it is, has to be over now."

He turned so he could sit facing her. "Wait, what? What are you even talking about?"

"I'm talking, like you always are trying to get me to do! Let's talk, let's talk! I knew that as soon as we talked I'd have to bail. I can't do the emotion thing. It's too deep. I'll drown. Best I stick to being shallow, it's what I'm good at."

"Hold on what in the heck are you going on about? Are you pre-breaking up with me because I like you? What the heck, Pacifica, I thought you'd want me to like you."

More than anything she wanted that. He was like the sun, and the prospect of him caring for her, of liking her back was like walking outside for the first time in her life. Instead of saying that, though, she gave a single nod.

"Then just let me—"

"I _can't_! I don't think you understand how much you and Mabel saved me, how much you helped me! I don't want to lose you, I don't even know if I _can_ lose you without just completely losing my head, too. And that's probably not normal, either, right? You don't want to like a girl who might go insane if she ends up alone again because you leave her for being selfish, as anyone would," The last of her sentence almost wasn't able to make it past the lump in her throat. She quickly had to roll over because the water in her eyes were threatening to spill, and she didn't want him to see her cry. She was so ugly when she cried. "I never should have kissed you."

She almost jumped out of her skin when Dipper said loudly, "WHAT!"

She turned to look at him and saw him jumping off the bed. He paced to the window, angrily rubbing both his hands through his hair, then turned and stomped back. She was surprised at the fierceness on his face—a look she had seen many times, but never directed at her—as he leaned a hand on the bed so he could look her in the eye.

"Ok, shut up!" He said, "I'm done with this! You're right, you shouldn't have talked! You should just listen!"

She was appalled. He was usually so good about trying to be sensitive towards girls' feelings. She had just poured out some of the greatest fears in her heart. Why was he talking to her like this?

"You _jerk_ , I'm saying what _you_ —"

"You don't know what I'm thinking at all! First off, _princess_ , quit thinking this is all about you! This isn't one sided! What about what I think and feel?"

"Fine, _commoner_ , talk."

"You can't brush me off just like that because of your insecurities."

"Insecurities? They're not—"

"Shut up, I said I'm talking. They _are_ insecurities. Pacifica, I _know_ you're not perfect. But you're seeing yourself through every lens but a clear one. You can't buy in to what everyone else thinks, to what your parents think of you. You think Mabel would really have a best friend who was a horrible person? Of course not! Pacifica, I've never seen anyone work harder than you to change who they are. For years you've been becoming a better person, the kind of person you can be happy with, the kind of person all of us are happy to be with. You're doing better than you think you are. And _I like you_ because of it."

Crap. Now she was really going to cry. She turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut.

The bed creaked when he sat next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. His voice was much softer, drifting over her shoulder, "You're a good person, Pacifica. You're loyal to your friends, you always fix your mistakes, and you try to do the right thing, even when everything is betting against you. You're good for _so much more_ than just spending money. Which is good, because I don't have any money for you to spend. Although if I did, I'd give it all to you, no questions asked, because I like you and I want to give you everything I can. And you deserve it, because you deserve the best. And not because you're a 'Pacifica Northwest', but because you're _you_."

She couldn't handle it. With a loud, "Ugh!" She sat up fully, her back facing him. "Ok, stop!" He started to say something so she threw a hand behind her, bumping it against his stomach. "I get it, I get it, I heard you, but you have to stop," She choked, "Or I'm going to…lose it…" And then she was crying.

He tried to turn her around, but she wouldn't let him. So instead he wrapped his arms around her from behind and dropped his chin on her shoulder. She wiped at her tears furiously, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. She would have run to the bathroom, or run home, or run into the woods to cry alone, but she knew he wouldn't let her. She was forced to let him hear her cry. The room was growing hotter in the late morning, the stuffy air sticking to their skin, but even still Dipper didn't pull away. He held her tightly and quietly, until finally she started to calm down and leaned back into his chest.

She rested against him for a while, feeling drained. She might have curled back up on the pillow and slept again if given the chance. Trying to keep her sniffling to a minimum she wiped under her eyes as well as she could to make sure her runny makeup wasn't all over. There was nothing she could do to help the red face, though, but she decided to turn around anyway. She moved away from him but shyly took his hand.

He looked at her calmly, no pity apparent, which she was grateful for. She searched his face, wondering if all those nice things he'd said were still believed by him.

"Ok," She said in a flat tone. "So for some brain-anurismic reason you like me and I like you. So, what? What does that even mean?"

"Well, I dunno. What do you want it to mean?"

What, she got to decide? Wasn't there some formula, some rule about this stuff? That would be a lot easier. At least it always seemed easy in the movies.

She twisted the hem of his shirt she was wearing around her finger, trying to think of what she'd seen in the last romantic comedy Mabel had shown her. "I don't know…I want…to kiss you."

He chuckled. "Kissing is good. Anything else?"

She shrugged, feeling silly. "I like…hanging out with you. I like talking to you." She threw her hands up. "How should I know? You're the one that said this isn't one sided. What do _you_ want it to mean?"

He put a finger to his chin thoughtfully and glanced at the ceiling. "I suppose a lot of things. I want it to mean that I can hold your hand in public and take you on dates and go star gazing and call you on the phone even when I have nothing to say."

She blinked at him. "You're such a girl."

"Someone in this relationship has to be."

She shoved him. He rocked back on the bed but came back to her with a smile.

"So, wait," She put a hand to her forehead. Her head hurt from crying, and trying to process everything was taking longer than it should. "This is a relationship now?"

"What else would you call it?"

She was too tired to properly inwardly freak out, but she did feel a funny warm feeling spreading through her chest and down her arms. She looked down at his hand that held hers, inspecting the veins and small hairs. This was the first time they had really held hands. Seemed funny that that should matter to her after all the times she had kissed him. "Ok. But what about when you leave?"

His smile faltered. "That's…not for another month. And I'll come back—"

"Next summer?" She rubbed her face with a groan, "I'm _sick_ of living through summers. It was fine for a while, getting all excited that you and Mabel were coming to visit, but then it just sucked! Summer's not enough to get me through the rest of the year anymore."

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do." He raised a warning eyebrow, and she was reminded not to tell him what he thought. "Coming to Gravity Falls is like coming home. It's like the rest of the year is when I'm on vacation. There's just something about this place, I don't know…it makes me feel alive. I love being here. This last school year was particularly hard, no thanks to you."

"Me?"

"You made me want it to be summer even more than usual. It was the worst. You're the worst."

She stuck her tongue out at him. He smiled.

"You could have called me," She said. She'd carried her phone around for weeks hoping he would, and her father had wondered aloud if she needed a shiatzu instead of a phone to cuddle.

"What, and risk you asking me why in the heck I was bothering you? Or having you tell me about whatever guy you were out kissing when I wasn't there?"

She raised her eyebrows. "I wasn't kissing anyone else. I was sitting around, texting your sister, trying to secretly get information about how you were doing."

"You weren't, huh?" He said dryly. "Not even Gary Strange?"

She laughed. "Gary Strange is disgusting. I hate him, and I wish I could wash my memory out with soap."

He perked up. "Really?"

" _Yes_. Gary Strange, are you serious?"

"Well, I dunno, he's good looking. How was I supposed to know?"

"I thought you said you knew I liked you."

"Well, I did, I mean kinda, and Mabel said—"

" _What_ did she say? I'll kill her."

"Nothing really, but she just kind of hinted, so I thought maybe, but then we parted kind of weird last summer, so I didn't know if I should call you, and I thought you'd be long over me by the time I came back this summer. I wouldn't have been surprised if you'd moved on to someone cooler than me."

She scoffed and grabbed his jaw with her hand, looking him closely in the eye. "Listen, Pines, let me just make this one thing clear for you: I don't even _remember_ when I fell for you, you big nerd, ok? It's been years, and my feelings won't go away because you didn't call me, which you never do anyway, or because of a horrible kiss from a jerk like Gary Strange. I warned you already you'd have to be the one to get rid of me, not the other way around. And no one is cooler than you, you dork."

Then he was kissing her. She forgot about her knotted hair and red face and wrapped her arms around his neck. And for some reason kissing him helped clear up her headache and sort out her thoughts. For the first time she knew that Dipper was kissing her not just because he liked kissing girls but because he liked kissing _her_. She started smiling and messing up his hair worse than it already was. Against her lips she felt him smiling back, and a second later he hitched her body closer, pulling her onto his lap and guiding her knees around his hips. Unsure why, she started laughing. She had to stop kissing him, and rested her arms on his shoulders, her hands clasped behind him. They smiled at each other, Pacifica biting her lip to keep her giggles in check.

"Did you say," Dipper said, giving her a sly look, "That you think I'm cool?"

"As if. Your head is big enough as it is."

"You love it."

She leaned her forehead against his. "I wish you didn't have to go to school at Berkley. It's still so far away."

"We could, I dunno," He shrugged lightly, "Go to the same school. If you want."

She _tskd_. "Don't bother, I already looked into it. My parents said they would only pay for me to go to Reed. They might not have cared if I went to Berkley, except that I accidentally let slip that Mabel and you were going there. I suppose I should just be grateful they lost most of their money so they're not going to send me to a private school in England like they had planned when I was a kid."

He made a face. "Ugh. That would be horrible. Well, what if I went to Reed? And maybe we don't mention it to them just yet?"

"Don't be stupid, you can't afford Reed. No, you have to take your scholarship for Berkley. I'm not selfish enough to take you from that."

"Well, _actually_ , Reed offered me a scholarship, too." She started but he looked away, being shy again. "I might have, on a whim, applied there, just in case. They offered me a scholarship, too, for the science program. Not full ride like Berkley, but I could make it work."

"Are you serious? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I haven't really told anyone. I was going to tell you when we skyped you at Christmas, but then Mabel was there and my parents were around, and I still didn't know where we really stood, and I was too chicken to make a huge fool of myself on the off-chance I was only your summer make-out buddy and not much else."

Her mouth hung open for a minute. "Wait, but Mabel. You can't leave Mabel."

He looked down, his expression becoming sad for a moment. "Well, it's not forever. And we're growing up and heading different directions so it was going to happen eventually. Besides, if I tell Mabel why, she'll be ecstatic. I think she's been planning our wedding for a couple years, now. Last I checked I think we have three kids: Rudolph Northwestpole Pines, Xyler Craz Pines, and Mabel Pines, Jr. Oh, and Dipper Jr., a.k.a., Dipper 2.0, a.k.a., Lil' Dippy Fresh."

That was no surprise to Pacifica—Mabel had run those names past her a while ago, and when Pacifica rejected them Mabel had said, "You can't fight the future, 'Cifica. You just got to roll with the flow."

But the idea of Dipper and Mabel being separated almost pained her more than the idea of her being separated from him. Almost.

She said, "Trading her for me, I don't think that's a good trade."

"Come on, I'm not trading anyone," He tightened his arms around her. "I get to keep both of you."

She slowly shook her head before another laugh escaped her. "This is insanity." She looked down at the shirt she was wearing and her sitting in his lap and thought about everything that had happened since she had arrived last night. "Is this seriously happening? It's not. You're crazy. _I'm_ crazy. Mabel's crazy is rubbing off on us. What was in that popcorn last night?"

"Lots of butter with a side of crazy. It's a common ingredient in this house. Mabel hides it in the glitter."

As if on a que, the familiar sound of Mabel's laughter floated up to them from downstairs. They both looked at the door.

"Speak of the devil," Dipper said dryly, "Looks like Gideon didn't kidnap her again after all."

Pacifica's only response was to shove away from him and scramble off the bed.

"Ow," Dipper said when she accidentally kneed him in the stomach.

"Sorry," She whispered harshly, "The last thing I want is for Mabel to walk in and see that I've been getting handsy with her brother."

"Handsy? Well, I don't think she'll mind. Firstly, she's always telling me I need to assert my man-ness and get a woman, and second, she threatened me yesterday that if I didn't ask you out soon she was going to set you up with Thompson when he comes home next weekend to see his family."

"Thompson? Really?" Thompson was the last of the older group Dipper used to hang out with that still came and visited home regularly. Pacifica didn't know him very well, but he was friends with Mabel and Dipper. He'd grown up pretty attractive, she had thought.

"Yes. You don't have to look so happy about it," Dipper said with lidded eyes.

"I'm not." She was smiling about something else. "Did you think I'd actually go out with Thompson? Is that why you invited me in last night?"

"Maybe. I never doubt Mabel's abilities when she threatens something. Besides, it turned out well, didn't it?"

She followed his gaze, which had dropped to the shirt she was still wearing. She quickly took it off and threw it at him. It landed on his face.

"Put it on!" She scrambled for her sweatshirt, pulling it on over her head. She could still hear Mabel's loud voice coming from downstairs, her words muffled by the wooden floors and walls. Dipper put his shirt on as she was finding her shoes that had been kicked under the bed.

"Ok, I'm off," She rounded the bed, heading for the door.

"What? Hold on!"

She was yanked back by the back of her shirt, falling on the mattress and dropping her shoes.

"Where are you going?" Dipper asked.

"Downstairs. Upstairs. Outside. Anywhere but here."

"Quit panicking. It's the moment of truth, Pacifica."

"Truth about what?"

"Us. This. Together."

"You tell her."

" _We'll_ tell her."

He pulled her back until they were both sitting in the middle of the bed, facing the door. She sat with her hands between her knees, grumbling to herself, feeling nervous. Apparently, since they had "talked" they weren't allowed to have secrets from anyone, now. That was annoying. She wasn't sure which prospect was worse—telling Mabel about her and Dipper, or telling her parents.

The sound of happy feet running quickly up the stairs was accompanied by the hoof beats of a pig.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Pacifica tried to stand.

Dipper pulled her back down. "Hold it."

"You're the worst."

He stuck his tongue out at her.

She smiled.

The footsteps pounded down the hallway, and as they neared the door Dipper reached for her hand. She squeezed his hand, hardly able to believe that she was allowed to touch him, that she could whenever she wanted to now. A sudden breeze drifted in through the window, blowing hot summer air through their hair as the door banged open.

Mabel came crashing in, rainbow leggings tucked into her boots, a sweater tied around her waist. Her voluminous hair was coming out of its braid, leaves sticking out of it, and a light blue powder dusted her shoulder and head. She was saying loudly as she went, "Wake up, Dip, I gotta tell you, we actually found the fairy glen and, ok, I _might_ have held his hand and whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…"

Pacifica cringed as her friend stood staring at them. Waddles, unaware of the awkward tension, scurried over to the bed and tried jumping on it, only to be too short and fat to make it and fall back to the rug. Then he ran around to sniff at Pacifica's shoes.

Dipper reached a hand forward, as though to calm his sister from a distance. "Mabel, this isn't what it looks like."

She narrowed her eyes and looked between them.

"Ok," Dipper retracted, "It's kind of what it looks like. But also not."

Mabel's eyes were still narrowed. She pointed a finger at Dipper, then Pacifica. "Are you two…you know…you two?"

Pacifica raised her eyebrows and looked at Dipper, who was looking at the ceiling as he coughed nervously. Then he looked at her with his warm brown eyes and smiled slightly. She could feel her face warm up and she looked away, but she kept hold of his hand in her lap.

"Uh, yes," Dipper said, "The answer to that is yes."

And then Mabel shrieked, making Waddles jump and Pacifica and Dipper flinch. Stumbling back against the wall she clutched her heart like she'd just been shot. She ignored their strange looks, and the shouts from everyone downstairs asking if she was ok.

"I knew it!" She shouted, flashing a smile of her perfect white teeth. Then she sprinted at the bed. "I knew it, I knew it!" She pounced on it, landing in between them, grabbing them both around the neck and hugging them so tight their heads knocked together. "Oh, I'm so HAPPY! _Finally_!"

She let them go, and with some surprise they looked at her and then each other. Then Dipper laughed, his shy, adorable, dorky laugh, and Pacifica did, too.

Mabel looked between them, her hands clasped under her chin, and whispered excitedly, "Tell me _everything_."

* * *

Durp de durp. Comment and fave.


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